


hold me up, though you're broken too

by howisthataparty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Post CA:TWS, bucky gets some food in him, natasha beats steve to the draw, raccoon references are made, russian things are said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howisthataparty/pseuds/howisthataparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha finds a lost Bucky after the events of Captain America 2 and tries to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold me up, though you're broken too

No matter the amount of faith Natasha had in Steve Rogers, she was always going to find Bucky first.

 

There were twenty reasons why, but they were all thrown out the window and forgotten when she found Bucky in New Jersey. He looked like the safe house had spit him out violently; lying just inside the door, she couldn’t believe the state of him.

The Winter Soldier had become so emaciated during the few weeks she’d searched that he looked like some enormous lizard, flakes of his leather fighting suit hanging off of him like scales. Shaking away his unconsciousness was tricky, since there was no way to know exactly how he would respond to such a jarring blast from the past, but Natasha did her best. Or, if she was lucky and Bucky was starting to remember things, Natalia.

Natalia Alianovna. It had been around sixty years since they’d seen each other. Her, a still slightly impressionable young trainee, eager to become the top of her class. Him, a renowned warrior with endless lists of skills that named him the best in his business. How Natalia looked up to him…..in more ways than one. Now she’s staring down at her old friend and old flame as he struggles to wake, wondering if he’ll be able to take her, another face from the distant past, any easier.

But that’s a stupid, stupid thing to think. He was punished for their relationship. Natalia had heard his cries herself from a long ways down an echoing hallway, and Natasha had never been the same because of it. Besides, 60 years is enough time for two people to change in a hundred different ways.

I think you’d still remember me though. If any of the you I knew is left, you’d know.

She sits by him until he regains his consciousness fully with a gasp that nearly makes her jump out of her skin. That’s the problem with James - no matter how well trained she is, no matter her hold on her emotions or alertness to danger, he does something to her. And damn it, it’s frustrating.

“Hey, hey wake up. It’s alright, you’re sa—”

In a split second Bucky’s eyes are as wide as a terrified animal’s and he scoots away from her along the wall, metal arm extended. Whether it is a sign of defese or fear, she can’t tell yet. Natasha can hear him shaking, like every nerve in his body simultaneously yelled, “VIBRATE!” There are bruises from lack of sleep pooling under his eyes — it makes him look like a rabid raccoon in a corner, ready to strike and bite once danger gets close enough.

Can he get any wilder?

Suddenly his back loses all its tension, and the Winter Soldier now looks at her with disbelief instead of terror. The very idea of him thinking Natasha had come to hurt him breaks her heart. It takes all of her self-control to keep her mask together. There’s a hiss of pain, then a name breathed so softly that she wonders if she heard him correctly.

“………..Natalia?” No one’s called her that in so long. 

“Yes, James. It’s Natalia. You remember?” There’s a whisp of a smile on her face, but there’s so much emotion in her words. Too much.

“Natalia. You……I - where are we?” The Soldier is acutely aware of his dark and damp surroundings now. The fear returns, and a stream of Russian pours out. “Что случилось? Где я? Почему все болит? Кто Джеймс?” She cuts him off with a shhhhhh, putting a gentle hand in front of her, signalling her approach. He gives no sign that he’s against it, so she creeps forward on her knees in order to stay on his level. Leaning forward, she murmurs soothing words to assure him of her intentions.

“It’s all right. You’re in New Jersey. You fought in D.C. a little while ago, and you’re hurt. Lay down, I need to make sure you’re not badly injured.” James, or what used to be him, acquiesces wordlessly, staring up at Natasha like a tired, confused child would at his mother. That makes her want to cry, but for his sake, she can’t. His eyes are a heavy weight over her head as she begins to peel away layers of torn and rotting leather and digs out a first aid kit from her backpack. At least ten lacerations mar the skin of his left leg, a few welts and purple bruises litter his chest, while every twitch of his left hand sends pitiful whirring noises up and down his metal arm. She has to stretch the rubbing alcohol as best she can, painfully aware of the Soldier’s hissing in discomfort. After a few more hisses that steadily get louder, an idea sends her digging through her pack again for water and a sleeve of crackers. Distractions.

“Here. This’ll take your mind off it. Slowly, or you’ll make yourself sick.” The food and water does manage to keep him occupied while she finishes bandaging wounds and checking for broken bones. Considering the nature of HYDRA and James’s “employers”, who knew how long it had been since he was properly fed like a human being ought to be.

When she’s done, Natasha tugs James upright as gently as possible and examines her work, squinting through the dark, musty air. He’s not clean by any stretch of the imagination and he’s no longer wearing a shirt, his pants are cut off at the knee whilst his long hair could effortlessly pass as a bird’s nest. But his battle wounds are clean and he’s finished the sleeve of crackers and water, leaving hardly a crumb behind.

“I know you.”

“You do.”

“I shot you.” She closes her eyes and turns away a little.

“You were protecting someone. I shot through you to kill someone. Didn’t I?”

“Yes….but you knew me before that. Can you remember?” If her eyes aren’t lying and the dark isn’t playing tricks, she thinks she sees the tiniest of smiles on his face.

“We worked together. I trained you. We fought. ….Missions, we had….missions…..” The light in his eyes fades some, and Bucky lets his head fall to the side. It’s a long few seconds before he speaks. It’s Russian again, denoting his growing panic.“Именно там, я мог видеть его. Я видел это, и теперь его нет! Я не помню, я не могу, я не знаю,—”

Natasha frantically hushes him, pressing her palms light to his shoulders so he’ll lean back against the wood paneled wall. He has the exhausted lost child look in his eyes again, and it’s too disconcerting to look at anymore. A grown man should not be taken apart, robbed of his mind, and turned into a directionless bundle of metal and leather and captive will. At the very least, that time in his life was over. Natalia Alianovna Romanova would make certain of it. A Black Widow does not fail. 

In the meantime, she will arrange her new charge so he can sleep away his shock and bewilderment. Afterwards, she can do nothing but text Steve and Sam, hoping she doesn’t ruin her phone with stray tears. They’re still burning in her eyes an hour later, unshed, but she sits victorious over excess emotion. If she is to buoy James up at all in the next few days, she needs to keep herself together.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr drabble prompt on my Natasha rp blog


End file.
